Mishaps and Misadventures
by YodaKitty
Summary: Just a series of silly little ficlets I recently rediscovered on my hard drive. Centered around Seasons 1 & 2, since that was all that was out when I wrote them. The stories stand alone, just easier to post this way. *Ch. 2- minor implied slash reference
1. Boredom Strikes

**Rating:** K+

**Spoilers**: None that are coming to mind... Set some where nebulously around Season 2.

**Disclaimer: **I do not in any way, shape, or form own the characters, concepts, or anything else related to Stargate: Atlantis that may be copyrighted or otherwise previously owned. Those belong to Gekko and MGM and all those other people who actually make money from it.

A/N: This is just a bit fluff that I found hiding on my hard drive from a number of years ago that I decided to post as a short break from some of the other, more character whump oriented stories I have in the works at the moment. There are a couple more 'chapters' to this that I will post as I finish editing, RL permitting.

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* * *

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**Chapter 1**

**When Boredom Strikes**

"Oh, come on, Doc. I'm begging here. And you know how I hate begging."

"No, Colonel, you cannot have your laptop. Or your guitar, or any manner of firearm, night-vision goggles, flash bangs, or anything of that sort either," The exasperated doctor paused, mentally checking that he had covered everything, "and no having Rodney smuggle in any of that rotgut Radek makes in his lab either."

"Damn. I'm not going to win this, am I?" the Colonel pouted, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Damn. Fine, one last thing."

At this, warning bells sounded in the physician's mind. "Okay lad, one last shot, and then you get some sleep," at the Colonel's glare, the doctor added, "I will sedate you into next week, lad."

"You wouldn't."

"Do you really want to test that?"

"No," the Colonel decided, knowing that was one bet he would almost certainly lose. "Since you won't let me have any of my high tech toys, I must resort to low tech means with which to amuse myself, without further risking my sanity or yours."

"Go on…"

"I mention saving sanity as the probable reason for disallowing me access to my guitar. Having established this, there is one more option that comes to mind."

"What might that be?" The doctor found that he was curious in spite of himself.

"Juggling."

"What?"

"Juggling- low tech, unobtrusive, keeps me occupied, at least temporarily, saving my sanity, and my being occupied keeps me from annoying you, thereby preserving your sanity as well."

"Somehow, I don't see this turning out well, but we'll try it."

"Stop worrying, it'll be fine."

* * *

On the whole, this conversation was fairly typical for just about any time that Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, Senior Military Officer, Atlantis, found himself as a long term guest in the city's infirmary. On this particular occasion, John had been grounded for a week and a half, a situation that was infamously taxing on the sanity of Colonel Sheppard and one Doctor Carson Beckett, Chief Medical Officer, Atlantis.

With the question of entertainment temporarily resolved, John passed a peaceful about half an hour trying to remember various juggling tricks that he had learned as a kid, much to the amusement of the various nurses and lab techs present.

Unfortunately for the rare peace and quiet that had descended on the infirmary, John was in the middle of relearning a particularly tough trick when Doctor Rodney McKay made his entrance.

"Hello, Colonel."

"Hey McKay, what's up?"

"Oh, just the usual, saving us all in the nick of time with my incredible genius."

"Same old same old then huh?" John quipped.

"Very funny Colonel," The scientist finally seemed to notice that the pilot was only about half paying attention to him, something that while not unusual, was very annoying, "What do you think you're doing Sheppard? When Beckett finds out you have those," indicating the juggling balls, "your ass is grass. And don't expect me to save you, either. I'm still on the overeducated sheepherder's shit list from your last stay here."

"I don't think you smuggling my guitar to me has as much to do with it as the constant sheep jokes, McKay."

McKay simply glared at the soldier, unhappily having to concede at least the possibility that he was right.

John smiled at this before adding, "Besides, he already knows."

"He what?" Rodney asked, not believing what he was hearing. "Is this some kind of joke? He never agrees to things like that. Ever."

"He did this time," John let the statement hang in the air, knowing that McKay could only go so long before he would ask how John had accomplished that particular feat.

Not twenty seconds later, the inevitable question came. "Alright, spill. How did you do it? What did you promise him? Or do I really want to know?"

John made a face at the implications of that last question, trying to decide whether to bait McKay into sticking his foot in his mouth even further. Deciding to stick to the topic at hand, John said, "Of course you want to know. You hate not knowing things. And you don't know this. Therefore, you do want to know, whether you think you do or not."

McKay blinked at the astoundingly circular logic of that statement, before conceding the main point. "Okay, you got me; I do want to know, if only so I can maintain my amazing record for knowing everything there is to know about everything."

John grinned and said nothing to this. After about a minute, McKay started to get worried. Trying not to sound nervous about the Colonel's lack of response to a comment that would normally have gotten a smart ass remark, McKay continued. "Alright, so what is your secret? How did you manage to strike a deal with the questionably licensed Highlander?"

John said nothing, simply returned to his juggling, milking his advantage over the snarky scientist for all it was worth. Finally, he thought that he had wound McKay up enough and said, "I'm not going to tell you."

"What?! You're not going to tell me?! Why?!" The outraged scientist gaped at this response.

John stopped juggling and held up his hands in a gesture that was half placation, half surrender. "If you really want to know that badly, there is one thing…" he drawled.

"What? What is it?" Rodney asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Choking back laughter at that answer, John said, "Tell you what McKay, if you can successfully steal all three balls from me while I continue juggling, I will tell you how I managed to come by them in the first place. Deal?"

Rodney thought about it for a minute, before replying cautiously, "What's the catch?"

John affected a hurt look. "Why Rodney, it hurts me that you would think there would be a catch. It's a simple wager really. Unless of course you're afraid you can't do it…"

"Not going to work this time Sheppard. Last time I agreed to one of your 'simple wagers' without checking what the rules were, I was forced to make multiple laps around Atlantis. Naked."

John barely kept himself from collapsing with helpless laughter at the reminder. Finally regaining control, John said, "Fine. The rules are as follows: I will continue juggling using whatever technique appeals to me at the time. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to try and steal all three balls and keep them away from me. There are multiple ways you can accomplish that last part. You can, of course, simply try to hold on to any balls that you have managed to steal while attempting to grab the rest, or you can try and keep the balls that you have stolen away from me by putting them on top of a cabinet or something to try and keep them safe. The "catch", as you call it, is this, I can, at any time, attempt to reclaim any balls that you have taken from me. Other then those rules, this is really an anything goes game. Same stipulations as always."

"Nothing questionably out of normal bounds and absolutely nothing that may alert Beckett to our little game?" Rodney clarified.

"Right. Ready?" John asked, looking at the scientist.

"Ready."

And so the game began, John using various tricks that he had been using earlier that day to try and keep the balls out of McKay's reach, while Rodney attempted to grab the balls out of the air. About half an hour later, Rodney had two balls and was trying to grab the last one, when suddenly John jumped out of bed and went over to a convenient chair next to the cabinet where McKay had been stowing the captured balls.

"Hey! No fair!" Rodney protested.

"Is so. I told you that I reserved the right to use any means available to reclaim captured balls. This is perfectly within the rules," John stated, grabbing both of the captured balls while continuing to toss the remaining one.

Rodney grumbled at this, but did remember Sheppard mentioning something to that effect in the rules.

Chuckling at the grumbling scientist, John resumed properly juggling all three balls. The game returned to its previous rhythm, until finally Rodney managed to snag all three of the balls from the Colonel.

"Ha! I have them all! Now you have to tell me what you did!" Rodney crowed triumphantly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I made up the rules, remember?"

"Stop stalling, Sheppard!" Rodney said impatiently.

"Nice alliteration McKay. Now say "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers," John teased.

"Har har John. Just tell me what the hell you did so we can stop this childishness," Rodney snapped.

"What fun would that be?" John quipped back.

"Sheppard, I'm warning you."

"Oh, what are you going to do McKay? Tell Beckett? I told you, he already knows."

"Just tell me already."

"Oh, fine. Spoilsport…" John trailed off as Beckett entered.

The doctor took one look at John, Rodney, and the juggling balls and decided he wasn't going to ask as he really didn't think he wanted to know.

"What's that look for Doc? I didn't do anything." John said, grinning.

"Sure you didn't, lad. And those juggling balls got up on top of my cabinet all by themselves, did they?" A slightly exasperated Carson asked.

"Of course not. Rodney put them there," John stated.

Beckett sighed and wondered for the millionth time why he had taken this job. "I don't know what Rodney would be putting juggling balls on top of my cabinets for, and I really don't want to," Beckett stated, interrupting Rodney's attempt to blame the whole thing on John.

John finally calmed down and looked serious. Well, as serious as John ever looked, in any event. "It really is my fault this time. I refused to tell him why I was allowed to have the juggling balls unless he could take them from me. Putting them on the cabinet was just a way to keep them out of my reach so I couldn't get them back," John confessed.

"Okay, so have you finished your game and told Rodney why you have the balls?" Carson asked.

"No, I was just getting to that when you came in," John explained.

"Continue then, lad."

John took a deep breath, knowing Rodney was going to kill him over how easy it had all been. "Well, it worked like this. After running over all the things that I couldn't have, I was stretching for ideas. I finally thought to ask for my juggling balls. I was allowed to have them based on the promise that juggling would keep me quiet and out of the good doctor's hair, at least for a while. Promising to save what little is left of both our sanity in the process."

Confession finished, John sat back and looked at the slack jawed McKay. Finally, Rodney looked over at Carson. "Is that really all he had to do?" the scientist asked incredulously.

"Aye. That was all."

Rodney glared at Sheppard. "You will pay for this, Sheppard."

John just smiled, knowing that Rodney was simply upset over how easily John had gotten his way once again. "I'm sure I will, McKay, I'm sure I will."


	2. Never Sleep in Briefings

**Rating:** K+

**Spoilers:** Minor references to'The Storm'/'The Eye' and 'Hide and Seek'

**Pairings: **backhandedly implied BeckShep, kinda

**Disclaimer: **I do not in any way, shape, or form own the characters, concepts, or anything else related to Stargate: Atlantis that may be copyrighted or otherwise previously owned. Those belong to Gekko and MGM and all those other people who actually make money from it.

A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews so far. More of a response than I was expecting for a silly little ficlet I wrote so long ago. Just a couple of notes- a) just so there is no confusion, these little one-shots are not intended to actually go together, even chronologically, despite being posted as chapters rather than as separate stories. b) I apologize in advance for the the implausibility of some of what happens in this story and the next. In my defense, I was writing these around studying for finals and the related lack of sleep at the time. So even for fluff bits this one and the next are a stretch as it comes to any kind of real logic. c.) While, as always, I welcome reviews/constructive criticism (praise is nice, too, naturally), I will also admit to taking a lot of license with the accuracy of details at times, either by accident or design. (Thank you, **JKL**, for the information. I will keep it in mind in the future. I would respond to you directly, but can't. Sorry about that.)

Well, on to the story, silly as it may be. ^_^

* * *

**Never Fall Asleep in Briefings**

"What?!" John sat up with a start.

"John? Is everything alright?" Elizabeth asked, looking at her Senior Military Officer.

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Yeah, fine. Fantastic, even." _Smooth, John, real smooth, sleeping in briefings again. _

"Then you should have no objections to what we were discussing, Major?" Elizabeth queried, smiling.

_Why is she smiling? Think Sheppard. What were they discussing?_ "Nope, no objections. Why would I have any objections?"

"No reason," she replied, smirking slightly. "Dismissed, everyone."

Once everyone else had filed out, John sighed and finally had to ask. "Alright, Elizabeth, you're smirking at me. What did I just volunteer for?"

Grinning openly now, Elizabeth said, "Nothing in particular John, just night watch with Sergeant Bates for the next two weeks."

"What?! How did I miss _that_?!"

The smirk was back. "How? Falling asleep in the middle of Rodney's lecture on the gadgets on P4X-7672, that's how. Not only that, but we finally had to do something when you started snoring. Lieutenant Ford was the only soul brave enough to try and wake you, and that was only by poking you and backing away quickly." She continued to smirk at the bewildered pilot. "This process had to be repeated several times before you woke up. Meanwhile, assignments were decided upon and you wound up with your current orders."

There was no response to this. John was monumentally screwed and there was no way out. Damn. Night watch for two weeks was bad luck. Night watch for two weeks with Bates was just John's personal hell. Damn.

_**That Night**_

"Good evening, Major."

"Good evening, Bates. What are we doing tonight?"

"Sir?"

"What are we doing tonight? Night watch is the most boring duty in all of Atlantis. Nothing happens during night watch. Ever. Everyone knows that."

This was met with a questioning look. John sighed and stared into the inactive ring that was the Stargate as he drifted off into his own thoughts.

After several long moments passed, John asked, "Do you have a deck of cards, Sergeant?"

Bates looked confused by the question. "Yes, Sir," he answered slowly.

John sighed. This was going to be a _long_ night. Make that two weeks of long nights. "Do you

happen to have them with you?"

"No, sir."

"Go get them then."

"Sir? Aren't we supposed to be on watch, sir?"

"Yes, yes. Watch. Right. Watch what? The bloody Stargate? Not that it's going anywhere."

_Bloody?_ Bates thought to himself,_ he's beginning to sound like Beckett._ _Wonder why? Never mind. _"Are you going to make it an order, sir?"

"If I have to. Or you could just consider it one anyway."

"Yes, sir."

A short while later, Bates came running back into Gate room, clutching the deck of cards he had been ordered to retrieve and looking like he'd just seen a ghost, a Wraith, or something else truly unnerving.

"Are you alright, Sergeant?" John asked, arching his eyebrows at the head of security.

"Yes, sir. Fine, sir."

"Then why do you look like you just saw a ghost?" the pilot questioned, trying and failing to keep the amusement out of his tone. _All I did was send him for a deck of cards. The way he looks, you'd think he had to fight a Wraith in hand-to-hand combat to the death for them. _

"It's nothing, sir. Shadows in an alien city in the middle of an alien galaxy in the middle of the night," Bates replied, barely keeping just this side of insubordination with the irritation that colored his voice. _What the hell does he find so amusing? He didn't see the damn thing, whatever it was!_

Sheppard rolled his eyes, silently asking whatever deity happened to be passing by for patience. Or something to hit the man with, whichever came first. "Fine. So, what shall we play first? War? Poker? S...um…Samba? _Isn't that also a dance? Whatever. I almost said strip poker, but really, I don't want to go there. I really don't want to see him naked. _Sheppard thought, ignoring the sergeant's questioning look when he shuddered involuntarily.

"Your choice, sir." Bates said, managing to sound condescending even with the brevity of the sentence. _How does he do that? _Sheppard wondered, _it shouldn't be possible to sound like that in three words or less. Unless you're McKay. But he makes an art form of making everyone else think they're idiots. Speaking of, I wonder if he's still up… Probably. Huh. Should bug him about that. Tomorrow. Wake up Sheppard!_ John mentally slapped himself to get his thoughts back on track.

Just then, in a true speak of the devil moment, McKay appeared in the Gate room, looking even more unnerved then Bates had earlier.

"Oh, good. Sheppard, there you are. Good. I was just looking for you…"

"Yes, McKay. Here I am. On night watch, where I was assigned this morning. Where did you think I was going to be? On the mainland? And why were you looking for me? Shouldn't you be, you know, asleep?" Sheppard stopped short on that last question, finally taking a good look at the harried, babbling physicist in front of him. For McKay obviously had been sleeping recently, his hair was in even greater disarray then Sheppard's own, and he was wearing pajamas with little fuzzy sheep and ducks on them. _Sheep? Ducks? I wish I had a camera. I can think of several people who would be most interested in seeing this. Elizabeth and Carson, for starters. And after all the sheep herder cracks, too. Have to remember that. _John thought, remembering that if you added the most frequent insults that McKay threw Beckett's way together it came to something like Carson being an over-educated, sheep-herding voodoo priest. _Will definitely have to let Doc know about this. _

And that's when he saw them… or rather, it. The fuzzy pink slipper that read "I *heart* science". But there was only one of them.

"Um, McKay," Sheppard said hesitantly, interrupting the scientist's rant, "what happened to your other slipper?"

"And for another thing, empty headed flyboy… huh? Slipper? What slipper?" Sheppard indicated the fuzzy monstrosity that was the aforementioned slipper. "_That_ is _not_ a _slipper._" McKay said slowly, putting emphasis on every other word as though Sheppard were a small child or suffering from a concussion.

"Whatever. Where is the other one of… them?" Sheppard asked, ignoring what they could be if they were not, in fact, slippers.

"What? Oh, yeah, that's what I was _trying _to tell you before you interrupted me." Rodney stated, pouting like a petulant child. And sounding like one, too. _How does he do that? I know he makes an art form of making people feel like idiots, but he shouldn't be able to be petulant and condescending at the same time. That just shouldn't be possible. Note to self, ask Elizabeth. Wait, she probably hasn't forgiven me for falling asleep in the briefing earlier. And for the last week. Oh, well. _Sheppard suddenly realized that McKay was still speaking.

"… big energy blob, you know, like the one that got turned loose earlier this year, but not. Maybe it's older brother or something like that. Do energy beings have families? Is that possible? Where's Carson when you need him?" McKay was in full blown lecture mode now, meaning he hadn't yet noticed that Sheppard had spaced out.

"What does Doc have to do with this?" Sheppard asked, honestly lost as to how the Highlander had come into the conversation.

Rodney sighed, "Were you listening at all? I was wondering about whether or not beings made up of energy could technically have families. Voodoo's really not my thing…" he trailed off, giving Sheppard a look that clearly said he thought even the pilot should have been able to follow that logic.

"Right. What does that have to do with your missing non-slipper?" John asked, still confused and wondering when the conversation had spiraled so completely out of control, while absently wishing that Carson was here. He seemed to be the only one who could make heads or tails of Rodney sometimes.

"Everything. Well, not the family relationships, per se, but the fact that that thing stole my highly fashionable footwear…"

"Right. Wait, what?! You're saying there is an energy being loose in Atlantis at this moment and that it stole your… footwear? And you didn't say anything about this until now?" Sheppard asked incredulously, only stumbling slightly over McKay's reference to the hideously pink, fuzzy object on the scientist's foot.

"I _did _mention it, Major Oblivious." McKay snapped.

Sheppard rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to fight the headache he could feel coming on. Taking a deep breath, he counted to ten, decided that wasn't high enough, by-passed 20 and went right on to 30 before he continued. "Ok. So you did mention it. Fine. Where did you see it last, and what possible interest could it possibly have in your slip… footwear?"

"How should I know what it wants with my footwear, even though they are the height of fashion, if I do say so myself…"

"McKay! Where is it?" Sheppard asked, derailing the physicist before he could gather steam.

"The companion piece to my current foot adornment? I don't know, why don't you ask the thing that took it?" McKay snarked.

"I meant the thing that stole it, McKay! I couldn't honestly care less about your slipper right now!" Sheppard bellowed, finally losing what little patience he had.

Just then, Bates, hitherto forgotten by both men, cleared his throat loudly.

"What is it, Sergeant?" Sheppard barked, rounding on the Head of Security.

"Did you activate the door controls just now, sir?"

"No, what would make you think that I… oh." Sheppard stopped mid-sentence, gesturing at the door in question and seeing that it was, in fact, open. "What the…?"

And in the doorway appeared, you guessed it, the energy being in question, wearing the twin to McKay's slipper. How it was doing that when it technically had no feet, none of the men present could answer. It just was.

The physical impossibility of what they were seeing really didn't register to any of the men right now. What did occur were three variations on 'WTF?'

"What do you suppose it wants?" McKay finally asked from where he was not quite hiding behind Sheppard.

"Your other non-slipper?" Sheppard hazarded, not taking his eyes off the creature in the doorway.

"Well, it can't have it! It's my highly fashionable bit of footwear, if it wants a pair, it can find its own!" McKay huffed.

The creature made a noise similar to what one would imagine putting scrap metal in a blender would sound like or fingernails scrapping across a blackboard.

"I don't think that was the answer it wanted." Bates stated.

"Ya think? Well that's just too bad for it. Life isn't fair you know. Not everyone can have such glamorous foot apparel. Though I don't expect you would know anything about that." McKay retorted with a contemptuous sneer at the standard issue boots both soldiers were wearing.

"Now is not the time, McKay!" Sheppard snapped just as the creature made another nails-across-chalkboard sound.

Having apparently decided that its ultimatum, whatever it may have been, had been successfully delivered, the energy being left.

"I wonder what it was trying to say…" Bates ventured after a long silence.

"Unless you are fluent in the language of the under-evolved energy beings that this galaxy seems to have an unlimited supply of, most of which are conveniently living right here in Atlantis, would you please shut up so I can think!" McKay snapped before resuming muttering to himself about, well, Sheppard wasn't sure he wanted to know what and probably wouldn't understand half of it if he asked.

Another long silence ensued, as the three men attempted to figure out just what it was the energy blob wanted, aside from having an apparent fascination for the most hideous footwear in the city. _Next, a pair of neon green stilettos will go missing, or something equally horrid. Maybe this creature is a blessing. Doing us a favor by getting rid of really, really bad shoes. I wonder if it takes other clothes as well, or if it only accepts shoes. Maybe I could finally get rid of that sweater, the one I have got from my wing mate's wife while I was in Afghanistan. God I hate that thing. Anyway…_ "It doesn't make any sense." Sheppard finally announced.

"Congratulations, Major, I think we had come to that conclusion already. Aside from having an amazing sense of fashion, it doesn't make sense that an energy being would be coming after footwear instead of, oh I don't know, the naquadah generators?" McKay retorted.

Sheppard sighed. "Alright Dr. Know-It-All, what brilliant conclusions have you come to? It is time for you to save us all once again, in case you hadn't noticed." Sheppard snapped, his patience with the physicist's 'I'm better then you' attitude reaching a quick end.

For once, Rodney had no answer to that, or rather, had been distracted from his answer by a sudden thought. Snapping his fingers rapidly in Sheppard's general direction, all McKay had to say was, "I've got it!"

"That's wonderful, Rodney, just fantastic. Got what?" Sheppard asked, knowing that he would either get a 30 minute lecture on McKay's latest brilliant solution, or no answer at all, depending on the physicist's mood that day. If asked, Sheppard would have bet on the former rather than the latter at this point.

"What? Oh, um, you wouldn't understand. What you need to do now is give me your boots."

"What?! Why?"

"Why? Because I said so. Who is the genius here, hmm? Now, the boots. Yes, Sergeant, yours too. I have an idea, but it will require the sacrifice of your boots."

Bates looked at Sheppard, waiting for his commanding officer's orders for once. _He would pick now to actually wait for orders. Fabulous. And these are my last pair of boots, too. After the ones that got ruined in the storm earlier this year and losing a couple of others to being soaked in blood or just generally being beyond repair. You never think about these things until you find yourself stranded in an alien galaxy. _"Hold on, McKay. Do you really need both pairs of boots?" Sheppard asked cautiously.

"Would I have asked for both pairs if I didn't need them, Major? No. What's the problem, you have some kind of emotional attachment to them or something?"

"No, I just don't happen to have another pair, and don't really fancy the idea of running around an alien galaxy barefoot, that's all."

"Fine, fine, whatever." McKay huffed. Just then, a hapless tech no one could remember the name of off-hand walked into the Gate room. "You," McKay snapped. The tech looked confused and pointed at himself, to confirm that he was the one the Great McKay had been referring to. "Yes, you. Do you see anyone else in here that I would be talking to?" The tech looked at Sheppard and Bates and neglected to answer. He'd always been kind of afraid of military types. Not that he would ever admit it, of course.

"Helloooo, Atlantis to random tech guy, whatever your name is!" Sheppard winced at that. But that was McKay for you. Not that he would ever admit it, of course. "Give me your boots."

This got a curious look from the tech. "Are you stupid? Incompetent? Never mind. Just give me your boots." The tech started to say something. "No, don't speak. Just give me your boots. I don't want to have to say it again." At this, the tech shrugged and started untying his boots. When faced with the Great Rodney McKay, it just didn't pay to argue. You'd lose in the end anyway, and you really didn't want to make an enemy of him. He knew more ways than most people to make your life a living hell in almost entirely untraceable ways. It just wasn't worth it.

"Thank you. Finally someone who does what they're told without asking a million stupid questions," McKay said as he took the tech's boots. "Now, Sergeant…"

"I don't think so, _Doctor_." Bates replied, somehow managing to turn the title into an insult.

"Last I knew, you weren't paid to think, Sergeant," McKay replied.

"That's enough, both of you!" Sheppard broke into what was quickly becoming a rather nasty argument. "I know where I can get another pair of boots. Just hold on a minute."

"Where are you going to get another pair of boots, Major? You don't have any more, or so you said," McKay snarked.

"No, I don't. I said I could find some. I didn't say they were mine," Sheppard replied. _I am, however, going to pay for this later. Oh, well. Such is life. If it means we can get rid of this shoe-stealing-energy-thing, it will be worth it. _

* * *

A short sprint and teleporter jump later found John standing outside a by now all too familiar doorway. Taking a deep breath and praying that Carson wasn't actually _in_ his quarters at the moment, John thought the door open.

Thankfully, whatever deity had been passing through Pegasus at the time had taken pity on John for once, and the room was blissfully unoccupied for the moment. This suited John's purposes, as that meant he could forestall the impending explanation and ensuing explosion for a bit longer. That was one conversation he was not looking forward to having. Sighing heavily, John cast about the room looking for the footwear he had all but promised McKay he could find. Granted, Rodney didn't know that it had been Carson's boots that John had been referring to, but that wasn't the point.

"Bloody Hell." John muttered after a moment. The room was, in general, fairly clean and tidy, a marked contrast to John's own quarters, and as such he figured that should make something as obvious as a pair of boots easy to find in a hurry. Provided that the shoes were actually there to begin with, which, John realized, was not the case. _Of course. This is just typical. The one day I really needed him to be wearing those God-awful tennis shoes is the one day he actually listens and wears boots. Naturally. Well this is just bloody well fantastic._ At this point, John realized he was going to put a hole in the floor if he didn't stop pacing._ Okay, breathe Sheppard, you can do this. This isn't your fault really, it's not like you planned to not have any spare pairs of boots on hand for when Rodney decides to sacrifice them to strange shoe-stealing-energy-things. How upset can he possibly get? It's not like you're doing this on purpose or anything. Okay, then why are you standing around arguing with yourself? They're going to lock you in one of those lovely padded rooms and throw away the key one of these days. But not now, we haven't got time for that now. Boots. Right._

"What are you doing, John?" came the apparently amused voice from behind the pilot. John jumped spectacularly, only managing a strangled noise that sounded something like 'mreah!'

"Ummm, nothing, I wasn't doing anything, why do you ask?" John was babbling and knew it, but couldn't seem to help it.

"If you weren't doing anything, then why, pray tell, are you standing in my quarters, while I wasn't here no less, muttering to yourself. Something about boots, I believe?" Carson questioned, if anything sounding more amused by the pilot's antics then before.

"Riiiight… boots… yeah, about that…" John silently cursed the fact that he seemed incapable of putting a complete sentence together. _Dammit, how does he do this? Make me go from Air Force Major to babbling idiot in record time? Damn. This is so not good. _Then he noticed that Carson hadn't said anything, seemingly waiting to see how much deeper John could dig the hole he had created for himself. John sighed. "You see, it's like this… theres-this-strange-energy-being-that-stole-McKay's-slipper-and-you-should-really-see-his-pajamas-fuzzy-sheep-and-ducks-and-things-and-now-he-has-this-crazy-plan-but-he-won't-say-what-it-is-only-that-he-needs-two-pairs-of-boots-and-he-stole-one-from-a-random-tech-but-I-don't-have-any-more-and-Bates-is-being-an-ass-and-I-thought-maybe-I-could-ya-know-borrow-yours-instead." He blurted out in one breath, tensing against the explosion he figured would be coming after that.

Carson was quiet for a moment, trying to sort out just what exactly it was he had been told. "Let me get this straight. There's an energy being that stole Rodney's slipper and now there's some half baked plan involving boots and Sergeant Bates being an arse and a random tech that Rodney stole something from? And I'm not even going to touch what I can only guess was a half description of Rodney's sleepwear. Does that about cover it?"

"Yeah, that's the gist of it, really."

"And now you want my boots as part of this plan of Rodney's that has yet to really be explained?"

"Yup. Pretty much."

"And this has what to do with your standing in my quarters muttering to yourself?"

"Well, I was just going to, umm, borrow the boots. Easier to beg forgiveness then to ask permission?'

"I see. And this seemed like a good idea since when?"

"Uh, about ten minutes ago when I came up with it?"

"Right. Do we know why the being stole Rodney's slipper in the first place?"

"No, not so much. We tried asking it, but it just made this awful screeching noise and left." What worried Carson at this point was that John said this with a straight face. This galaxy couldn't possibly get any stranger.

"Okay, then. I'm not sure about any of this, and really not sure about giving up one of the few pairs of boots I still have at this point, but for future reference, there's generally a spare pair in the closet if there are any spares at all," Carson said, moving across the room to the closet to retrieve the aforementioned shoes.

John was in shock, for lack of a better term. "That easy?" he asked, not sure he trusted that there wouldn't be payback in the near future for the attempted theft.

"Aye. You were expecting what, a fight? Over this?" Carson asked with a 'just how daft are you?' look.

"Well, yes, actually. Kind of figured it was logical after admitting to attempted theft and all," John said, having the decency to look sheepish about it.

"That is a discussion for another time," Carson said simply, at the same time making it apparent that the conversation was not over, just on hold.

"Got it." John really didn't want to press the issue right now anyway. Maybe Carson would forget about this while they were dealing with the energy being? Not likely, but he could hope.

* * *

Returning to the Gate room with boots in hand and a curious, mildly annoyed Carson in tow, John found Rodney engaged in what appeared to be a kind of negotiations with the energy being, which had evidently returned in the around ten minutes John had been gone. It was hard to tell if the negotiations were going well or not, since mostly it consisted of Rodney's babblings, occasionally punctuated by the nails-on-chalkboard sound from the being, and Bates standing at a cautious distance attempting to look…intimidating or something. In an attempt to intimidate who, exactly, John wasn't sure and wasn't concerned enough to ask.

Moving closer to where Rodney was standing conversing, for lack of knowing what else to call it, with the being, John and Carson realized Rodney was, in fact, trying his hand at a kind of hostage negotiation with the being. _So that's what he needs the boots for. He's trying to convince this thing to take the boots in exchange for that awful slipper. Wonder what's so important about the damn thing that he won't just give the nice energy creature the other one and move on? He can't honestly think they look _that_ good. Can he? Though I suppose of all the things he's ever been accused of, having a decent fashion sense has been one of them,_ John mused, listening to the on-going hostage negotiations/ peace talks or whatever it was McKay thought he was doing.

Around that time McKay noticed John's return to the room, belatedly noting that Carson had now joined them, if only because Carson had finally gotten over his initial shock at seeing the energy being and had taken note of Rodney's sleepwear. The resulting not-quite-completely stifled laughter was enough to pull the scientist's attention away from the negotiations at hand.

"Just what is it you find so funny, Serg…" Rodney huffed, rounding on Bates only to stop mid-motion. "Oh, Sheppard, you're back. Finally, it took you long enough. What, did you have to go all the way back to Earth for the boots?" McKay snarked, not waiting for Sheppard to reply before returning to scolding Bates, "But seriously, Sergeant, if you think this is so funny how about you try to…"

"Oh lay off him, Rodney. The Sergeant hasn't done anything wrong," Carson interjected, still struggling not to laugh at the sight in front of him.

"What would you…Carson? What are you doing here? Never mind," Rodney said, waving his hand in Carson's general direction before snapping his fingers at John, waving for the pilot to hand over the boots he was holding.

Once he had both pairs of boots in hand, McKay made a great show of bowing to the shadow energy being, placing both pairs about a foot in front of it and backing away slowly. All four men watched as the being honestly seemed to be considering the offering for a moment before reaching a decision. Apparently it decided that the four-boots-in-exchange-for-one-not-slipper equation was to its liking, as it made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a purring cat before moving forward towards the boots, pausing to somehow put them on its nonexistent feet, and moved back towards the door out into the hallway again, leaving McKay's fuzzy pink slipper in place of its newly acquired boots. Exchange completed, the being headed back out into the hallway, presumably to return to wherever it had come from.

After several long moments in which all any of the men present could do was stare dumbfounded after the energy being, John looked around him and said simply, "That's it. I am never falling asleep during a briefing again. It's not worth it."


	3. Why Electrical Tape?

**Rating:** K+

**Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer: **I do not in any way, shape, or form own the characters, concepts, or anything else related to Stargate: Atlantis that may be copyrighted or otherwise previously owned. Those belong to Gekko and MGM and all those other people who actually make money from it.

A/N: Okay, this is the last little bit of fluff ficlet. Possibly the most nonsensical of the three, I just want to say I do not in any way suggest anyone actually do something like this, or do I actually believe the boys would do this in any event. In my defence, I was tired, overly caffinated, and staring a bit too intently at a roll of electrical tape when the plot bunnies struck with this one. *hides under desk from probable fallout* This is all the bunnies fault, honest. ^_^ As always, thank you to all of you who have reviewed these silly story bits. I wasn't sure about posting these to start with, so thank you very much.

* * *

**Why Electrical Tape?**

This was a strange day. Not that most days around Atlantis weren't strange, but today was unusual, even by Atlantean standards. Dr. Elizabeth Weir sighed and turned to face the heads of the three major divisions of the Atlantis Expedition. "Okay, someone explain to me, _one_ more time, how this happened."

"I told you! I told you this was a bad idea. Did I not tell you that this was a bad idea?"

"Shut up, McKay. You're not helping."

"Don't tell me to shut up, Sheppard. This is all your fault. I told you this was a bad plan."

The argument was interrupted by a large book impacting the desk. Having stopped the childish squabbling, Elizabeth looked to the only sane member of her senior staff.

"What, exactly, happened earlier today, Carson?" The diplomat turned expedition leader asked the, until now, silent physician.

"Well, it started something like this lass…"

_**Earlier that day**_

"Oh for God's sake Carson! It's a _chair_! It's not going to suck your soul out or anything. Why is your kilt in a twist anyway?" A very exasperated Dr. Rodney McKay ranted as he chased after the quickly retreating doctor.

"Well, pardon me for not wanting to risk blowing random things out of the sky again Rodney," responded an equally annoyed Dr. Carson Beckett.

"Give me a break. It happened once. In Antarctica. How were we supposed to know that the helicopter was there?" This comment earned the physicist a dirty look from the Scottish physician.

"Hey guys. What's the problem?" Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard asked as he practically bounced down the hallway.

"Rodney wants me to sit in that bloody chair again. Bloody Hell, I'm not your bloody guinea pig Rodney. I'm a bloody doctor dammit!"

John looked on quietly for a moment following the random explosion. "Oh. Is that all? It's only going to do what you tell it to. It's a cake walk."

"I don't care what kind of dessert you walk on, Colonel; I am not sitting that bloody chair again!"

John sighed quietly, trying to think of a way to calm the irritated doctors. "Look, Doc, aside from the obvious incident, have you ever heard of anything going wrong?"

This simply earned the pilot the doctor's patented death glare, which the soldier promptly ignored, as usual. Instead, he turned to McKay. "What are you trying to do today McKay? Destroy the other fourth of the galaxy that you missed last time?"

"Very funny, Colonel. Laugh it up," Rodney growled, glaring at Sheppard.

John rolled his eyes. "Seriously, though, what are you trying to do?"

"I am _trying_ to run a diagnostic on the systems that run the chair," Rodney said, glaring pointedly at Beckett.

"Why are you doing that now? Isn't there some bomb or something you should be working on to either save us or blow us all to smithereens?" Sheppard asked.

"I am attempting to see what, if any, of the systems we can adapt to use with our own technology. Not that I expect either of you to understand the importance of that."

"Uh- huh. Yeahsureyoubetcha," John said, looking bored. "How soon do you really need this done?"

"Yesterday."

"Oh. I was going to say I could run the thing for you, but I have to go give flying lessons to some of the new recruits from the _Daedalus_. Sorry, Doc." John added, nodding to the Scot. Carson said nothing, simply gave a long suffering sigh.

Suddenly, the pilot's face lit up. "Hang on. I'll be right back." He said, sprinting back the way he had come.

Rodney looked over at Carson. "Are you worried now?"

Carson rolled his eyes. "Aye. Worried doesn't even begin to cover it, lad."

Moments later, Sheppard returned, though he didn't appear to have picked up anything that would have precipitated his sudden sprint down the hall.

Rodney raised an eyebrow at the pilot. "Well, what is it, Sheppard?"

John just smiled. "Let's head for the Ancient Chair. You'll find out what I plan when we get there."

Both doctors exchanged a look that said, "Oh, shit" before following the pilot down the hall.

Once to the room containing the Ancient Chair (the Chair Room, John remembered Ford had wanted to name it) Rodney noticed that Ronon was also there.

"What's he doing here?" Rodney asked, directing the question to John.

"_He_ can answer for himself, McKay," Ronon said with a slight smile that still managed to look threatening.

Rodney gulped. "Of course. But the question remains."

"Simple, Sheppard asked me to meet him down here."

Beckett was starting to get a bad feeling about this, along with the distinct impression that he knew what John's plan was. He started to back away from the mountain of a man that was Specialist Ronon Dex, very, very slowly.

Ronon, however, had been warned that something like that was going to happen and was already moving before Beckett fully understood what was going to happen. He caught the smaller man just as Beckett was about to back through the door, smiling at the doctor.

Knowing that there was no way in Hell he was going to be able to break free of the Satedan's grip, Beckett sighed and relented. He did protest, however, when Ronon started pushing him towards the God awful Chair. Hearing the doctor's protests, Ronon decided that this was taking much too long and simply picked the bewildered physician up, proceeding to carry him over and dump him in the Chair.

"I hope that you have some further plan, Sheppard. As soon as I step away, he is going to attempt to escape again," Ronon stated as matter of factly as though he was saying that the sky was blue.

"I know. I have a plan for that, trust me Ronon. Thanks." With that, John walked over to the Chair and produced a roll of electrical tape from the pocket of his fatigues.

"So that's what you went to go get," Rodney observed, watching from near the table where his laptop was set up.

"Yup. That's it."

Upon seeing the electrical tape, Carson started trying to get out of the Chair, even with Ronon standing squarely in front of it.

"Ronon, if you please," John said.

"Of course," Ronon replied, knowing immediately what Sheppard had in mind. With that, the Runner reached over and restrained the doctor, making sure to press just hard enough to reinforce the other man's perception of just how strong Ronan really was, without doing any actual harm.

Once the Runner had Beckett restrained, John proceeded to pull off strips of the electrical tape and use them to effectively tape Beckett into the Chair.

Elizabeth couldn't believe what she had just heard. Rather, she did believe it, and that was what truly worried her. She believed it, and was not really that surprised. "So what are we going to do now?"

John and Rodney simply looked sheepish. John because he had carried out the entire plan; Rodney because he knew that he had given the Colonel the idea for the plan in a conversation several days ago. Surprisingly, Carson just laughed. This drew looks from the other two men that clearly stated that they questioned the Scot's sanity. Elizabeth merely raised an eyebrow at them all before asking, "Do I want to know what set that off?"

"Nothing lass, just thinking that this whole episode reminds me of my sister when we were kids. She had a fascination with using electrical tape for all manner of things, including tying things, pets and family members to furniture."

"Oh? So, no hard feelings then?" John asked cautiously.

"No hard feelings, though there will be pay back for the whole incident, you understand."

John smiled and said, "Of course. Wouldn't have it any other way." At a questioning look from Rodney, John clarified, "One should expect pay back after doing something like that, for it not to come eventually would be unnatural in the grand scheme of things."

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, if all is right with the world as we know it," she said, looking at John, "then I suppose you all are dismissed. Just don't go tying each other to furniture with electrical tape in the future."

"I think we can manage that," John said with a laugh.

"Aye. I think we can do that," Carson agreed as all three men filed out of Elizabeth's office and headed back to their various posts in the city.


End file.
